There's a man with a plan, in the house down in Canberra,
To rip up the tax code, and tear it asunder.
To remove all the burdens, the small and the great,
To dismantle the workings, of the old welfare state.
The lady who sits, by the man who is yelling,
Would wish for his job, though she ain't really telling.
He struts and he frets, with his graces and airs,
And she sorts the mess out, of Foreign Affairs.
There's a man in the house, who is thinking up lines,
To protect all the workers, down the pits and the mines.
And he's trying so hard, with the message he's sent,
Not to look like a fool, or incompetent.
Now the man from North Queensland, who likes having a chat,
You can tell where he's going, in his oversized hat.
He doesn't like fracking, he thinks they're all moles,
And he doesn't like stores, neither Woolworths or Coles.
There's a man from the north, with his own brand of party,
With a voice that is loud and booming and hearty
And his ideas arranged from the great to the manic,
Like building a dinosaur, or rebuilding Titanic.
There's a weird little man, who looks kind of bony,
Who has a weird little smile, either creepy or phony,
Who's really impressed with his own information,
And charging a fortune for a good education.
A lady with hair like the tail of a beaver,
Who loved helicopters, and used to be Speaker,
She used to kick out, all the louts and the wenches,
But now she's resigned to the party's backbenches.
There's a lady upstairs who sounds really calm,
Who in estimate hearings has suffered great harm.
For the grown-ups as children within the four walls,
Are childish and churlish and give her cat calls.
There's a weird little man, of whom it must be said,
Has schoolteacher glasses and a round baldy head.
He has thousands of books, from the thick to the fibry,
And he places them all in his subsidised library.
The man from the east, an accomplished law reader,
Is the one that we want to be installed as the leader,
He's biding his time, he's aware of his station,
As he plays with the nation's telecommunication.
There's a man up the back who has done it before,
With the nation's accounts and the writing of law.
When all over the world, when the banks were all failing,
Kept our economy on course, with smooth steady sailing.
The lady across from her opposite number,
Says the government's dumb, and it's still getting dumber.
The ideas of her own, are of logic bereft,
And if everyone's right, then she's to the left.
There's a man in the cabinet, who likes a good dance,
Who chats with the Treasurer, on matters of Finance,
He blusters and rants and raves when he can,
When he speaks of economy, and the odd girlie-man.
When the House is alive, with the sounds of the funkys,
And the shouting and hollering and raving of monkeys,
There's a man in the middle, with his one wagging finger,
And they call him the leader, the Member for Warringah.
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